


Alternatives

by orphan_account



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Anorexia, Eating Disorders, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-10
Updated: 2012-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-29 07:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mark can’t go to Eduardo for the money for thefacebook, he finds another way to get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternatives

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a pinch-hit for messengerhatta in tsnsecretsanta

When Mark comes up with thefacebook, the idea blooms in his mind like a forest coming alive in the morning. The thing is - well, the thing is that there’s not much he can do without money. He could ask the Winklevii, use their money for the project; he knows they’re interested in something similar because they’ve asked him to work on HarvardConnection but it’s not the same, it’s not the same as his idea at all. HarvardConnection is essentially an online dating site for Harvard and Mark is imagining thefacebook to be the entire college experience — just online. He’s hoping for more than just dating, he wants the mundane conversations of life and he wants them all online. But still. The Winklevii will go for it, he knows they will. Except it would be theirs. They would claim it as their idea and Mark would be little more than an afterthought. So no, Mark is not going to ask the Winklevii for money.  
He considers asking Eduardo. He’s not poor and Mark knows that he’d give him the money. He’s formulating a persuasive argument in his head when Eduardo approaches him one day, face drained of colour. “My father’s going to kill me,” he says.  
Mark furrows his brow.  
“I lost it all,” he elaborates. “All the money I made over the summer - I invested it in what I thought was a sure bet and now it’s gone. I — I,” he stutters, burying his face in his palms. “I’ll be lucky if I can still attend Harvard,”  
Mark might be socially awkward but he’s smart enough to realise that now is not a good time to talk to Eduardo about money.  
He approaches a few other people discreetly but all he gets in return is shaking heads and sorry looks. He considers getting a job at a cafe or a supermarket but when he calculates how long he’ll have to actually work to get enough money to even pay for the servers, he realises that it’s hardly an option.  
In the end it’s Dustin that provides him with the idea, though he’d probably be horrified to realise it. He is watching Pretty Woman in their common room, shovelling chips and ice-cream in his mouth and talking all at the same time - about what, Mark doesn’t know, he’s sure it’s not important - and hang on, hooker - now there’s an idea.

Mark has never held sex as something sacred like some people seem to, and he’s never really cared who he does it with or if he does it at all, so it’s almost logical that selling it is the answer to his problems. It’s surprisingly easy to break into it as a business, despite the inherent illegality of it. It’s pretty straightforward. Mark puts an ad in the paper for a ‘private male escort’. He is contacted by the client and they arrange a time and place. Mark arrives at the hotel and strips to his underwear as arranged, before the client, an older, distinguished looking man, arrives. Mark recognises him as one of his professors, a man named Ackerman, but the man doesn’t recognise him and Mark doesn’t bring it up.  
“So,” Mark says somewhat monotonously. “What would you like?”  
Ackerman doesn’t respond verbally but strips and lays on the bed, then beckons to Mark, gives him a hard look and points directly at his mouth, then his cock.  
Mark swallows. He crawls up on all fours, hovering uncertainly over the other man. In theory, this had sounded like a good plan but in practice it’s a little different that he had imagined. The fact that he has no practical experience with gay sex is starting to dawn on him.  
Mark is on his knees and his palms are sweating a little with the nervousness. He unzips his trousers and reaches in. Ackerman’s cock is warm and heavy in his hand, and Mark strokes it, experimental. Ackerman grunts. Gaining confidence, Mark spits in his palm and rubs up and down a few times, the cock swelling in response. He takes a deep, calming breath and shimmies down on the bed until his mouth is level with Ackerman’s crotch. He closes his eyes and mouths Ackerman tentatively, and is rewarded with approving groans. He breathes in, opens his mouth as wide as he can manage, and takes the head of Ackerman’s cock into his mouth.  
When he emerges from the hotel an hour later his jaw is aching, he’s limping a bit and he feels raw and bruised all over. But in his pocket is his $150 fee, a rather generous tip, and an appointment for the same time and place next week.

The thing is - well, the thing is Mark doesn't exactly have the most desirable of bodies. He is small and skinny and weak and maybe he does have an impressive cock but that is about all there is to him. His clients are far from afraid of telling him, and the snide comments bitten into his skin don’t affect him at first but —  
Eduardo is rarely around now. Throughout Mark’s life he’s never been the best at remembering to feed himself, and up until college his mom had reminded him. Eduardo had taken over the job, but now that Eduardo was either studying or working and only saw them once or twice a week there was no-one to remind him. If Mark forgets, he doesn’t even notice. He only realises he is losing weight when a regular client makes a favourable comment, pressing deep into Mark and biting heavily into his neck. He gets an extra fifty and figures hey, if it’s working, right?

——

Eduardo has noticed that lately Mark has been a little more drawn than usual. He’s vague and barely present in conversations, but he figures it’s just due to his new girlfriend and constantly working on thefacebook. Eduardo is barely keeping on top of his fees as it is, desperately scrabbling for enough cash to survive until he can win back his father’s approval and so he represses his jealousy, biting down on it so hard he can taste the blood. Three weeks after Mark officially launches thefacebook, Eduardo’s father finally relents and Eduardo flops jubilantly onto the couch in Kirkland. “Where’s Mark?” he asks idly as Dustin tosses him a celebratory beer.  
Dustin shrugs and takes a swig, Chris waves his hand vaguely. Both are heavily engrossed in a documentary about food. “Out. I guess he’ll be back soon.”  
“Out with his girlfriend?” Eduardo asks bitterly, twisting open the cap and taking a small sip.  
“Girlfriend?” Chris repeats, seemingly boggled at the idea. “Mark hasn’t got a girlfriend. Not since Erica.”  
Eduardo raises an eyebrow, sceptical. “Who’s he been fucking, then?”  
Dustin makes a scandalised noise and chokes on his beer, and Chris shrugs. “He hasn’t told us, didn’t realise he was fucking anyone,”  
“You’re kidding, right?” Eduardo scoffs. “Every time I see him he’s covered in hickies and his face has that horrible smug post-coital look.”  
Dustin screws up his nose. “You know Mark’s post-coital face? That’s kinda gay bro, just saying.”  
Chris nods in agreement and Eduardo huffs. Trust them to not pay any attention. He turned his attention to the TV, thrumming his fingers impatiently against the beer bottle.  
He's about to get up for another drink when the door rattles and gives way to Mark. Eduardo’s eyes automatically rake Mark’s body, cataloguing every part of him. The hoodie he’s wearing swallows him whole, flopping ridiculously over stick-thin limbs. There’s teeth marks on his neck, dark bruised sucked into his skin. Eduardo feels his jaw twitch in agitation, anger and jealousy flaring in his chest.  
Mark walks toward the couch, a smile on his face. “Hey, Wardo.”  
Eduardo stands, his face set in a grim line. “Care to explain?” he says to Mark, grabbing him roughly by the shoulder and spinning him around to face him. He presses his fingers into the marks on Mark’s neck, angry and possessive.  
Mark frowns blankly at Eduardo. Chris and Dustin stare.  
Eduardo huffs, and tugs Mark into his room, closing the door behind them. He lowers his voice, “what the hell is this?”  
“I believe it’s called a hickey,” Mark deadpans.  
Eduardo laughs, but it’s not like his normal laugh, it’s cold and controlled. “You know what I mean, Mark! What are you doing? Who are you sleeping with? Why are you so skinny?”  
Mark shrugs. “I don’t always get their names.”  
Eduardo gapes open-mouthed for a moment and Mark continues, “but I need the money for thefacebook.”  
“Thefacebook?” Eduardo chokes, “Money?”  
Mark waits, the look on his face clearly saying that he knows Eduardo is not stupid enough to misunderstand.  
“Mark,” Eduardo says, “that’s — you’re, Mark, no.”  
Infuriatingly, Mark shrugs again. “I don’t see the problem. I needed money, I found a way to get it. I’m good at it,”  
Eduardo is assaulted with images of Mark, naked and willing. He shakes himself. Now is not the time. “Mark, no! You can’t do that. Just, stop. Today. Please. We just need to find some other source of money.”  
“How is this a ‘we’? This is a ‘me’ and I need to continue. I need the money Without money the site can’t function. If those servers are down even a day, thefacebook’s entire reputation is irreversibly destroyed. What other source of money is there, Wardo?”  
Eduardo shakes his head, drinking in Mark’s appearance. He grabs one of Mark’s hands and pushes up the sleeve. “Even if that’s true, Mark, there’s not need for this.”  
“No need for what?” Mark asks, pulling his arm from Eduardo’s grip and tugging the sleeve back down, self-consciously.  
“Mark, your arms were definitely not this skinny last time I saw you.”  
Mark is silent.  
“Take off your shirt,” Eduardo says suddenly.  
Mark obeys before he even has a chance to think about it properly, his arms going up over his head as he shimmied off the shirt, revealing jutting ribs and a concave stomach. Eduardo feels sick looking at him.  
“Mark!” he exclaims. “Mark, have you been eating?”  
“Not much,” Mark admits. “Hookers get money based on their general attractiveness. There’s little I can do about my facial features but my weight can be regulated. Thinness equates to a higher fee. I’m aiming for a more objectively attractive physique and there is nothing wrong with that.”  
“Okay,” Eduardo says, quietly horrified. “Okay. Mark. This is not attractive and this is not healthy. You have to listen to me, we will find another way to fund thefacebook but this stops now. Not tomorrow, not next week, now. And if it doesn’t, I’ll call the police.”  
Mark appears unconcerned. “It’s just a misdemeanour.”  
“And you think they won’t stop you? You really think you could go out and find people who will be willing to risk using your services when you’re known to the police?”  
Mark gawks at him, apparently not having expected this response. “You can’t!” he protests. “You’ll kill thefacebook!”  
“You’ll kill yourself if you’re not careful, Mark!” Eduardo spits back angrily, reaching for his phone. “I am not kidding about this.”  
“No, stop, don’t.” Mark says, frantic. “I’ll make it up to you, I’ll — I know,” he says and drops to his knees in front of Eduardo.  
Eduardo is too busy being shocked for a moment to stop him, and it’s only when Mark’s fingers close around his cock that the reality of the situation hits him.  
“No!” he protests, pulling Mark up by his shoulders and zipping his pants again. “That is not how I imagined that happening.”  
“You imagined that happening?”  
“Don’t try change the topic!” Eduardo protested, fighting back a blush. “The facts are these, Mark. You can’t fund a company from prostitution. Even if I let you continue, someone would find out eventually. No one would use thefacebook if they knew where the money had come from. Did you think about that?”  
Mark deflates a little and Eduardo fights back the urge to do a fist-pump of victory. He can see he’s starting to win this argument, but he knows that if he presses too hard, Mark will completely cut him out. He puts a hand on Mark’s hip and tries not to wince at how bony it is. “Mark, please, for me,” he feels his voice cracking, “At least eat a bit more. I’ll start looking at other funding options and if I find something, you have to stop. Okay?”  
Mark is silent for a long moment before he steps into Eduardo’s space, pressing his emaciated frame into Eduardo’s chest. “Okay,” he mumbles into Eduardo’s neck. “I’ll try. For you.”

——

Mark isn’t hungry. He’s already eaten three forkfuls of pie (prepared lovingly in the microwave by Eduardo) and it sits heavy in his stomach. Flakes of the pastry stick in his throat and he takes a gulp of water to wash it down. Eduardo is watching him intently, looking inordinately pleased with his progress, and Mark can't bare to disappoint his bambi eyes. He fills another fork and puts it in his mouth. He chews and chews and chews until it’s all the same fine, mushy consistency in his mouth. He chews a bit more, idly poking his fork at the rest of the pie while he tries not to feel sick.  
He swallows with some effort.  
Eduardo grins brilliantly at him and captures his lips for a brief second, and Mark remembers why he’s doing this and how Eduardo has spent the last months being extremely convincing. After having convinced his father to fund thefacebook, Eduardo had spent most waking moments looking after Mark. It has been a long journey. Sometimes Mark will still look at his body and be horrified at what he sees there, will think about how much weight he could stand to lose, the mentality of skinny equals sexy built from his months in the sex trade still with him.  
But then Eduardo is there, beaming at his side and looking so ridiculously _pleased_ with him that he can forget about it for just a little while longer.  
He thinks things will be okay.

/fic


End file.
